Doom: Hell at last
by EnyoGraeae
Summary: Written as a sequel to the movie. Only this time it REALLY is all hell that breaks loose and Reaper finds that what he faced in Olduvia was a minor skirmish compared to what he will face now. Constructive criticism is appreciated!
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own Doom or any of the characters (either the movie or the video game) otherwise I'd be sitting on the beach of my own private island sipping margaritas. **

**This is my first fanfic so feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks!**

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

People who spoke of hell as being a place of burning fires, molten lava and endless screams of the damned had clearly never been to Mars. John Grimm knew better. Hell was a wasteland of reprocessed air, re-hydrated food stock, light so artificial it made your eyes burn, all surrounded by the silent vacuum of an endless frozen desert.

Twenty-four months he had endured there. His punishment for surviving the madness of two different species attempts to play God. Although Grimm (a corporal at the time, now a mere private) had harbored no illusions about being given a hero's welcome, he had been caught off guard by the hostility that greeted him when he and his sister, Samantha, had exited the facility on Earth. The only two survivors, or so he had been allowed to believe for several weeks, both beaten, bloody and assured nightmares for years to come. He had been quickly separated from Sam and put into isolation. For the first day the only people he saw were doctors and nurses. No-one would tell him anything, but they were all dressed in head to toe protective Hazmat gear. He was repeatedly questioned about his "exposure" to C-24, a bio-engineered chromosome that a Union Aerospace Corporation (UAC) scientist had discovered while analyzing the humanoid remains found in an archeological dig at the Olduvia base on Mars. Samantha had injected him with the chromosome in a desperate bid to save his life after he took a bullet to his lower abdomen. Ironically it was a bullet he himself had fired that had ricochet off wall to strike him. On the second day he was moved into a room with a large window through which he was to be interrogated for the next week. The Marine Corps and UAC Internal Affairs took turns working him over. One person or group after another. They questions might be asked in a different order or in a different demeanor, but the theme was the same. What had happened on Mars and why was he the only Marine who made it back? The questions grew more and more hostile and soon it became clear that no-one believed him. They might accept bits and pieces of his story, but much of it, they concluded, was either fabricated or vastly exaggerated. At best he was delusional from trauma and/or exposure to C-24. At worst, he was possibly a liar and a coward who was covering up for his mistakes. Slowly Grimm began to realize his career with the RRTS (Rapid Response Tactical Squad) was over and he would be lucky if they didn't court martial him.

Three months later, when UAC medical staff concluded that the effects of C-24 were actually temporary and the Marines concluded their investigation, the newly demoted Grimm was shipped off to the remote Mars base, Enyo. Remote being an incredible understatement. It was nearly a full week away, by ground transportation, from the nearest major UAC facility. Some mockingly referred to Enyo as "Mars City", as it had to be completely self-sufficient, but other than that it had very little in common with a real city. The staff looked more like the walking dead and the layout was clearly dreamed up by some demented engineer who was obsessed the mazes. It was here that Grimm was to serve out the rest of his career with the Marines. They had decided that it was in the best interests of everyone (particularly UAC) for John Grimm to be made to disappear to a place where he was least likely to cause any more trouble. A trial, of any kind, would mean airing "dirty laundry" in public. Considering the major ethical breeches by UAC scientists and the desire of UAC executives to keep quiet all information regarding their research data their solution was a simple one. Write the mission off as a failure due to "human error" and get rid of the human in question. Grimm would later learn that his sister had gone through a very similar experience. Interrogated, disbelieved, and packed off to a tiny, nearly meaningless archeological dig in the Arizona desert. UAC had informed her that if she "behaved" she could redeem herself and work her way back up the corporate ladder, but if she tried to speak out to anyone about her experiences she would be discredited as a scientist and her brother, John, would be transferred to a prison outpost on the Mars moon, Phobos, which had a dangerously high death rate among the staff.

Yet after two years Grimm wondered if perhaps that would have been a more fitting post for him. At least there he would have had the weekly riots to channel his anger and frustration into and the fear of being jumped at any moment to keep him feeling alive. There was nothing more that Grimm wanted than to feel alive again.


	2. Chapter 2: Anniversary

Private John Grimm stared at the glass in front of him. It contained two fingers of real whiskey. A rare commodity on Mars. Though not as rare as management liked to believe. Anything was available for the right price. In this case it was in exchange for logging Senior Tech Larkin in before he actually arrived for his shift. It would have been his third tardy that month, costing him a day's pay. Life on Mars sucked enough without having to work a full day for free. UAC was good like that. Always looking to minimize expenses any way they could. Erik Larkin was a good man; he was also a very lucky man. His girlfriend was Laurel Willows, on of the hottest women at the base. Hence why Eric routinely found himself running to get to work on time. It seemed unfair to Grimm to penalize a man for that.

Grimm looked around as he brought the drink to his lips. Wolf's Den was what passed for a bar on the base. A few video games along the wall, a pool table (that he had never gotten a straight answer about how it got there) and an odd assortment of chairs and tables that had outlived their usefulness elsewhere. The dim lighting ensured that no-one ever got a good look at the food that was served.

He closed his eyes as he felt the whiskey burn its way down his throat. For a moment he could almost imagine he was back on Earth, just out for the night screwing around. He wished he could afford another drink like that, today was an anniversary he would prefer to forget.

"Don't look so damn cheerful Grimm." A familiar voice teased.

John opened his eyes to watch fellow private Alexander Greyson drop down into the seat across from him. Greyson was the most stubbornly cheerful person Grimm had ever met. If he hadn't liked him so much he would have given some serious thought to smashing his face in. Greyson was rarely without a big, slightly mocking grin on his face. Like right now.

"Somebody might get the idea you actually liked it here." Alex continued his teasing as he opened his beer, or the nearest thing they had available without having to spend a whole week's salary on it.

"Relax Greyson," Grimm drawled, "Nobody will ever believe I love being here as much as you do."

Alex laughed loudly. Despite having spent over four years stranded at the base he had never succumbed to the darkness and shadows that slowly seemed to seep into everyone. His green eyes were still bright with life and he walked as if everything he did had a real purpose. His uniform was always neat and ready for inspection – which they rarely had – and he filled out his paperwork like someone was actually going to read it. Grimm often wondered how he was able to do it. Almost every Marine there was there because they either couldn't (or wouldn't) fit in anywhere else or they had been labeled a "troublemaker" and the Corps had little use for them. Either way this was the end of the road for most of them. There would be no posting out.

"Damn Greyson, do you ever stop laughing?" a dark haired man sat down to the left of Grimm.

"Adam!" Alex greeted the newcomer with a slap on the shoulder. "What brings you to the Wolf's Den? Slumming for the evening?"

Adam shrugged, "I just thought I ought to check up on you boys. Make sure you weren't getting into trouble."

"In other words your wife is out for the evening?" Grimm translated.

Adam and Alex both laughed.

Adam slumped back in his chair crossing his arms over his chest, "She's out with the girls. They are celebrating Serina's engagement."

Grimm frowned slightly, "I thought Denice didn't like Serina."

"She doesn't." Adam grinned widely, "They're celebrating the fact that she will be leaving at the end of the month."

This time Grimm laughed too. As much as he might envy anyone who was getting out of there, he understood why the women were celebrating the departure. In such close quarters there was no escaping from people who got on your nerves. So when they left there was always a feeling of great relief and a good excuse to put a few drinks down with friends.

"Well what's put all of you in such a great mood?" A tall red-haired man sauntered up to the table.

"Oh no," Adam groaned, "It's the good news fairy."

"Hey Ryan," Alex greeted the newcomer as he sat down. "What have you got for us this time?"

Ryan was the youngest Marine at the base. He was good natured, very intelligent and quick to follow orders. The last kind of guy Grimm expected to find there. Unfortunately for Ryan he couldn't resist a challenge. Particularly involving computer systems. The more someone touted a system as being "un-hackable" the quicker Ryan would set to work proving them wrong. It was a talent that the Marines (and UAC) found useful when spying on enemies and even allies alike. However, they were not amused when he managed to get into the National Repository of Security Management and accessed files regarding members of Congress. Still, he was one of the very few who had a realistic chance of getting posted out of Enyo. His was just a temporary punishment. A reminder about who was really in charge.

Ryan sat down and leaned forward, eager to impart his new information. Ryan prided himself on being among the first to know about anything new or confidential. "Have any of you heard that Counselor Swann is on his way here?"

That immediately got everyone's attention.

After a moment's pause Grimm shook his head slightly and smiled cynically, "You are such a bull-shitter Walshy."

"No," Ryan immediately responded, his face earnest. "Really. Rumor has it that UAC is fed up with Dr. Betruger. He hasn't been filing updates regarding his research and word finally got back to HQ about all of the 'accidents' they've been having in the labs. Did you guys know that they've had over a dozen fatalities in Alpha Lab over the past three months?"

"Over a dozen?" Alex leaned forward too. "That's more than three times the number I heard. What is going on over there and how are they keeping it so quiet?"

Ryan glanced around briefly before continuing in a lower voice, "I don't know all the pieces yet, but apparently there was more to last month's find at the dig site than was officially recorded. I've heard from a couple of different sources that not only did the archeologists find a new alien facility, but that there was even more technology in it than ever seen before. Dr. Betruger had the place sealed off to all but his top people and the archeologists are now confined to the dig with all of their communications being closely monitored."

"So who the hell is dying?" Alex asked impatiently.

Ryan held up his hand to Alex, "Don't worry, I'm just getting to that. Anyway, this new technology may be something similar to the Ark. It may be another form of inter-dimensional travel. Only Dr. Betruger, for some reason, doesn't want anyone else to know about it yet."

"He's a control freak." Grimm stated, as he gestured at the bartender, Vox, to bring a round of beer.

Ryan shot Grimm a quick grin, "He's also insane."

"You'll get no argument from me." Grimm agreed.

"So, Dr. Betruger has complete control over the new technology, only he's not happy just figuring it out. He's trying to make it work." Ryan glanced around the table, "That's part of the reason we keep having those power shortages. Whenever they turn on whatever it is, they are draining massive amounts of power."

"Are you trying to tell us that Dr. Betruger is killing people by using them as guinea pigs to test this transportation thing?" Adam frowned deeply, clearly appalled.

Ryan shifted in his seat and seemed to be searching for the answer. "That's the really weird thing. I can't get a straight answer from anyone about that. I get all these weird, frightened looks when I ask how these people are dying. All I've gotten so far is that in some cases there was barely anything left to send home to the families and, in a couple of cases, the guys I know who caught glimpses of the bodies before they were shipped out, told me these bodies looked like a wild animal had torn into them. They were mangled."

"It's not unusual for there to be bad accidents on these dig sites. Sometimes people get crushed in cave-ins." Adam quickly glancing at Grimm, hoping he had not hit a raw nerve. Although it had been years since his parent's death, Adam knew it still haunted him. Grimm's only reaction was to stare intently at the table. His lips tightly sealed.

"No, this is different." Ryan insisted, shaking his head, "Anyway, if it were just accidents then why are they keeping bodies in the storage freezers with no official report of their death? Heck, a couple of guys are still on the payroll."

Grimm shot Ryan a sharp look just as Vox delivered the drinks. He mumbled a thanks, waiting for Vox to depart before speaking up. "They are keeping men on the payroll even though they are dead? Bullshit. The UAC would never do that. You know how cheap they are."

Ryan nodded in agreement, "Yea, that's why Counselor Swann is on his way here. Something really weird is going on over there."

Grimm relaxed and shook his head, "No, nothing weird is going on. Just a mad scientist playing with technology he doesn't understand. The UAC doesn't mind losing people so long as they are making money. No, if Counselor Swann is coming here it is because the good doctor is over budget and not coughing up the goods to justify it."

Again Ryan shook his head, "It's more than that. The people I've talked to are downright scared. And there are some guys who won't even talk to me anymore. It's bigger than just testing a new technology or cost overruns. Something big is going on over there."

Grimm disagreed, but didn't argue. He had worked on too many UAC assignments not to have a good feel for what the company was all about. And it was all about money. Nothing else mattered.

"Well, I'm sure we will find out soon enough." Alex leaned back in his chair, his smirk firmly back in place. "It's not like anybody can keep secrets from you long."

Ryan broke into a big grin. "Absolutely not. I love a good challenge."

"So what brings you here tonight?" Adam looked over at Grimm.

"What?" He shifted in his seat, reaching for his beer, "A man needs a reason to drink?"

They were all quiet for a moment. Grimm's defensive tone made it clear something was wrong.

"Is it two years today?" Adam finally guessed.

He nodded once. His lips tightly sealed. Two years since he had found out how little all the other years of service and devotion had meant to the Marine Corps.

"Sorry man," Ryan mumbled.

Grimm finally glanced at Adam. He said nothing, but there was sympathy in his eyes.

"You got any leave time coming up?" Adam picked up his beer.

"Two weeks next month." Grimm answered.

"You gonna go home and visit Sam?"

"I don't know." Grimm shrugged, "She just started a new job and she barely has time for Kevin right now."

Alex shook his head, "Man, don't let another ten years slip by. She'll have plenty of time for her fiancée after you are gone."

Grimm was silent. There had been so little time for them after the "incident". What healing of the rift between them that had begun at the Olduvia base was given little chance to flourish. Still, it had felt good to have a family once again. Maybe he would visit.

"So, any of you hear about the new batch HQ sent over?" Ryan changed the subject. "I hear one of them was up on charges of manslaughter, but got off cause his daddy's a senator."

The other men followed his lead and conversation turned back to safer topics for the rest of the night.


	3. Chapter 3: The arrival

Counselor Swann arrived two days later and he brought with him a nasty surprise for John Grimm. In addition to his usual bodyguard, Jack Campbell, the Counselor had also brought an RRTS squad led by none other than Sergeant Kawaine Palani, known to most as "Sarge".

Grimm was at his post working security for Alpha Labs with Ryan Walsh when the Counselor arrived. While Grimm had learned of Sarge's survival a few weeks after the "incident", to see the same man who had not only killed innocent civilians, but also executed a member of his own unit given such a high profile position was galling. Grimm watched in shock as the security monitor showed Sarge leading his new team off the transporter jet that had brought them here. While the Ark, a teleportation device created by a now dead race, at Olduvia had been partially destroyed by the grenade Grimm had used in an attempt to kill Sarge after his mutation, two other Ark devices were still functional at other bases. Enyo did not have an Ark device so more traditional methods of transportation were used to get there.

Grimm stood frozen in a sudden blinding rage. Staring at the monitor as his heart pounded in his chest. Abruptly he turned and savagely kicked the desk that had been beside him. The desk was secured to the floor, but he left an impressive dent on the side of it. He then took two large steps and with a guttural shout slammed his right fist into the wall. The shock radiated up his entire arm, through his shoulder and into his back, but he felt no pain.

Those bastards at Headquarters had not only accepted a cold-blooded murderer back into their fold, they had promoted him, ultimately giving him one of the most prestigious positions available. At the same time they had shipped him off to the ass-end of the universe, stripping him of not only of his rank, but his purpose as well. He was a Marine who had whole-heartedly embraced the life of a soldier. Forsaking any life outside of the military so that nothing would ever distract him from his work. Spending countless hours at the firing range, working out in the gym, reading books regarding military strategy and studying reports that analyzed the tactics used in previous operations. Ultimately devoting himself to ensuring the successful completion of each and every mission he was assigned to. Following orders without question. Every order except for one. One lousy order he had disobeyed. Not out of fear or confusion, but because he knew the order to be wrong. Those people on Olduvia did not need to be killed to ensure that the threat posed by the mutated scientists was contained. Yet because of that one decision he had lost everything that had meant anything to him. And the man who gave that order was now being held up as an example to every Marine as the ideal soldier.

Grimm glared at the wall, not even seeing his own blood dripping down it. Hatred and fury consumed him, but underneath that lay a seed of despair. Without even knowing it he had been secretly holding onto the hope that one day he would get called back to Marine Headquarters where they would tell him that he had paid his dues and they would, once again, offer him a position with the elite RRTS division. Now he knew what a hopeless and pathetic dream that had been. He was garbage to them. Like the rest of the Marines there. He had been disposed of and there would be no redemption for him.

"Uh, Reaper?" Came a hesitant voice from over his shoulder, "You ok man?"

"No." He growled, "I am NOT ok."

Ryan watched him silently, unsure what to make of Grimm's outburst.

Grimm took a deep breath and straightened himself up. With a little twist of his head he pulled himself together. He was a Marine after all. A damn good one too, no matter what anyone said. He would deal with this. He would suck it up and deal with this as unemotionally and professionally as he could.

"Sorry Walshy," He grunted, turning back around. "Didn't sleep well last night. I'm fine now."

While Ryan considered the burning rage in his eyes and statue like stillness to be an interesting definition of "fine", he didn't argue the point. "Ok, well, you might want to wash those knuckles off."

Grimm glanced down at his fist. Not only was there blood oozing from his knuckles, but one also looked distinctly out of place. With barely a though he reached over with his left hand to pop it back into place and then he turned to the med-kit on the wall.

In the meantime Ryan turned back to the monitor and watched Counselor Swann and his entourage heading toward the Administration Facility. He wasn't sure which person had triggered Grimm's temper but he had a feeling things were about to get very interesting.


	4. Chapter 4: The Insider

There were days that DeeDee Dawn was convinced she had more in common with the lab hamsters than the people she worked with. Endless days where she ran around in the same small "cage", while people in white lab coats ordered her about, controlling her life, irritating her to no end and then the constant requests for information and demands for results, otherwise ignoring her until something went wrong.

Her morning routine with the treadmill did not help either.

DeeDee was not a morning person. Unfortunately, her friend, Trish, was.

"Come on DeeDee," A sickeningly cheerful voice came from next to her. "Pick up the pace. Try running a little. It really helps to get the juices flowing."

"Unless there is a gun involved in your scenario somewhere I am **NOT** running anywhere." DeeDee snarled.

The pretty golden blond next to hear merely laughed, quite used to her friend's dark morning moods. With a little jump she was off her own treadmill as it slowed to a stop.

"What you need is a cool glass of lemon-melon spritzer." Trish grinned up at DeeDee as she blotted herself with a towel.

"Isn't it illegal for someone to be so perky in the morning?" DeeDee glared at her friend.

Trish thrust her chest out, "Only if I take my shirt off."

A smile twitched at the edges of DeeDee's lips as Trish twirled around and left with a laugh.

"Wrap it up here Dee," A commanding voice ordered.

She looked over to see her supervisor, Shawn "The Wizard" Stevenson, striding towards her. His massive build never failed to impress her. While his nickname referred to his ability to fix just about anything, no matter how badly someone had broken it, she always thought a more appropriate name would have been "Tank" or "Bulldozer". The man was a walking wall.

"Just got word that Swann has arrived." He stopped in front of her, crossing his tree-sized arms across his barrel chest. His dark, almost midnight colored skin, contrasting drastically against his white t-shirt. "I'm counting on you to keep your boys in line today. No swearing. No goofing off. No non-standard "equipment" lying around."

DeeDee's treadmill started to slow to a stop as he emphasized his last statement with a hard glare.

She nodded in compliance, "I understand sir."

While he was normally willing to overlook certain irregularities in the parts shipments she received and the unusually lax atmosphere she allowed at her work station so long as her crew got their work done, if there were any problems during Swann's visit, he would very quickly bring it all to an end.

He nodded, "See that your team does too."

She sighed as he walked away. She hoped Swann's visit didn't last long she had enough complications in her life.

Walking towards the shower room she began to mentally review what she needed to do for the day. After instructing the morning crew on the rules that would be in effect during Swann's visit she then needed to get a team working on fixing the drilling equipment for Dr. Kalif and his archeological team, get someone on finishing up with the robotic sentry, finish up the installation of the remote sensors in Hazardous Materials Facility, then make sure all of the backup cooling monitors in the HVAC station were working and somewhere in there find the time to stash the shipment of beer and adult vids she had just received in with the new air filtration parts.

While most people would probably see getting out of Enyo as a good thing, DeeDee was fairly content. She had found herself a niche. She had a boss who didn't bother her most of the time, she liked her work and she had a nice, though small, group of friends. Not to mention the extra bucks she was making smuggling in goods. It had taken nearly three years to set up the operation, but a few more years and she would have enough saved to quit UAC and start up her own business. It was a day she dreamed of every night.


	5. Chapter 5: The Meeting

Never before had six hours seemed so much like six days. The only other time that came close was during the selection process for RRTS. The final evaluation had been a series of brutal endurance tests combined with live fire training exercises and logic quizzes all on next to no sleep. By the end – seconds seemed like minutes, minutes seemed like hours and hours seemed like an eternity. While the physical brutality might not ever be matched again, the psychological assault of that time seemed to fade in comparison to this moment.

John Grimm was not a man to sit around wallowing in self-pity or doubts. He was prepared to make split-second life or death decisions and live with the consequences of those decisions. Decisions like those he made at Olduvia. Though he might have felt the punishment for those decisions was excessive, he had not questioned it or complained. But now his gut was in knots. He had made the only decisions he could under the circumstances, yet he had been exiled to a dead end assignment. Reduced to nothing more than an insignificant security guard. A card scanner and button pusher. Just another pair of boots. Easily replaced and even more easily forgotten. How had his life come to this?

Grimm was vaguely aware of the glances that Ryan kept sneaking at him, but he did not bother to try and explain himself.

When they, finally, received word that Swann was on his way over Grimm's heart rate shot up and all of his other senses became extremely sensitive. It was just like before going into a combat situation. The initial intense rush of adrenaline; the way everything around him came into sharp focus. His instinctual senses searching for signs of the hidden threat. After the first few moments his training would kick in. He would calm himself, bringing his heart rate down, controlling his breathing, relaxing his body and focusing his attention on only those things that would keep him alive. This might not be a combat situation like any he had faced during training or any of his missions, but he did not doubt there was a real threat involved in this situation. He had no idea what Sarge remembered from their last encounter or what he had been told since then, but no man, much less a Marine, took an attempt on their life lightly. And Sarge had always been a man who paid back, in full, any offense that was dealt to him.

Grimm and Ryan stood up as Counselor Swann entered the security area. Swann was followed closely behind by Campbell, with Sarge and his men right behind him.

Grimm fought to keep his eyes from going to Sarge first. He did not want to let Sarge know how heavily this moment had weighed on his mind. But when he finally allowed his eyes to make contact with the man whom he had attempted to kill, and who had also attempted to kill him, he knew he had failed. Sarge stared at him, a slight sneer on his face. Grimm may have won the battle on Olduvia, but Sarge had won the war.

He barely heard Ryan speaking with Counselor Swann and then contacting Dr. Betruger to notify him of the counselor's arrival. Somewhere, in the back of Grimm's mind, he recognized the doctor's snub for what it was. A show of power. Meant to demonstrate that it was HE, not the counselor, who was in charge there.

The thought barely registered though as Grimm was too busy studying the face of the man he had once thought he had known and understood. While they had never been close buddies or best of friends, he had once held deep respect for Sarge. Respect for his ability to command his men; his courage to enter the most dangerous situations with little or now knowledge about what faced them and his willingness to set aside all other considerations in deference to his career. In that, they had been alike. Career soldiers. Devoted to their jobs in a way few people ever devoted themselves to anything. They had understood each other. Respected each other's abilities and had once trusted each other with their lives.

But all of that had changed. They were enemies now.

It wasn't only their relationship that had changed. So had Sarge. Thanks to the grenade Grimm had thrown through the Ark at him. The same biologically engineered chromosome that had saved Grimm's life had also saved Sarge. Barely. The scaring on his face was the most obvious evidence of the damage that had been done. With the use of lab grown tissue the doctors had been able to reconstruct Sarge's face back into something that resembled what it had been before, though the once smooth skin was now lined with scar tissue from where they had had to remove the pulverized remains of his cheek bones and eye sockets. The lower half of his jaw had been blown off too, along with one of his ears. The engineered chromosome had never been intended to be able to reconstruct an entire face. Sarge's nose, ear, lower jaw and most of his teeth were now artificial. Everything was the best that money could buy, but he would never look entirely human again. Especially the eyes. Even though they had been able to give him human eyes from a deceased donor they were still not **_his_** eyes. Something about them was just not quite right. Maybe it was because they were no longer the dark, almost obsidian, brown that had been his own. Or maybe it was because the skin around his eyes was drawn just a little too tightly. Whatever it was, it gave him a vaguely alien look.

Grimm couldn't see it, but Sarge's whole body was a mass of scars and reconstruction. Ribs had been shattered from the shockwave of the grenade, many of his internal organs had been shredded from the shrapnel of his rib cage and his left arm and hand had been nearly destroyed. It had taken over 18 months and nearly two dozen surgeries followed by adjustments, corrections, enhancements and endless hours of physical therapy to get Sarge back into good enough condition that he could serve again. This was something none of the doctors who had first seen him had ever thought would be possible. The damage had been just too great. They had been convinced that no man, no matter how strong or determined, was capable of such a full recovery. But Sarge had proven them wrong. For while the C24 chromosome had saved his life it was through sheer force of will that he was a solider again.

A soldier who believed that justice had not yet been served.

Though it would be very soon.


	6. Chapter 6: The Confrontation

**Ok, this is one of the longest chapters so far, so I hope you enjoy it. I would really love feedback on whether or not you think that I succeeded at keeping both Reaper and Sarge "in character". If there is anything they say or do that you think is OC please let me know. Also, feedback regarding military procedures (you'll see what I mean shortly) and/or jargonis alwaysgreatly appreciated! Thank you!**

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

"Counselor Swann," Dr. Betruger spoke politely, but moved with a deliberate slowness as he entered the security chamber from the Omega Labs, only barely bringing his hand up to greet the counselor, "My apologies for not being here to greet you, but I'm afraid time does tend to get away from me while I am working."

Counselor Swann, no stranger to power plays and politics, disregarded the doctor's belated greeting. He had the backing and authority of the UAC Board of Directors behind him. It was not a power he wielded carelessly, but when he did chose to use it, no person, regardless of his or her position, was safe from him. He would allow the doctor his petty discourtesies so long as the man agreed to the changes in procedure and reporting that the UAC Board had decided on. Dr. Betruger was undeniably a genius, but he would play by the Board's rules or we would be reduced to nothing more than a lab teacher at the UAC's university. While the UAC prided itself on exploiting its workers to their greatest potential, they also tolerated no disobedience to their directives.

"It is no matter Dr. Betruger," Swann replied, his deep husky voice honed over the years to be able to put even the most nervous individual at ease or reduce the most belligerent and aggressive to fear. The slight British accent it carried had been added by Swann when he was in his twenties. He had discovered that many people found the accent to be both refined and, for some reason, suggestive of intelligence. Always searching for the slightest edge in any situation Swann had moved to London for several years, both to study international business management, as well as, to acquire his new accent. Combined with deep green eyes, that many swore could see through both walls and men's skins, Swann had quickly risen to his current, influential, position with an ease that obscured his cunning. Everyone knew not to underestimate Counselor Swann, but, upon meeting him, very few heeded that advice.

"You did not need to bring any army with you." The doctor stated in a tone that bordered on hostility, his eyes darted between Sarge and his men. "I assure you the security at this lab is more than adequate, we take such matters very seriously here."

Swann immediately sensed the doctor's true fears. He wanted as few eyes as possible in his lab. The man was definitely hiding something, something very big. But there was no rush. Swann knew he would find out all he needed to know eventually. "My apologies doctor. No offense was intended. I'm afraid the Board has just been a little overly cautious since the recent trouble on Deimos. I have every faith that all security procedure are followed to the letter here."

Swann turned slightly away from Dr. Betruger and motioned to Sarge, "Lieutenant Palani…"

Grimm felt all of the blood rush from his head as his breath was stolen from his lungs. **_Jesus._** Lieutenant. They had made him a fucking lieutenant….

It took every ounce of training and will power that Grimm had to control the flinch he felt run through him. One of Sarge's own punches could not have hit him harder. Would the abuse of this day never end?

The man once known as Sarge stepped forward, "Sir."

Though every ounce the soldier on the surface, inside he gloated. No matter how hard John Grimm had tried to hide it, in his eyes the shock and even horror had shown. Lieutenant Palani had looked forward to this moment for two weeks. Ever since he had been informed of the assignment. But never had he imagined the pleasure of grinding John Grimm into dust would be so intensely satisfying.

"Would you, and your men, kindly wait here while I meet with Dr. Betruger?" Swann asked in a tone that implied he would actually allow the Lieutenant to disagree with him.

Lieutenant Palani smiled a slight smile. " Of course sir. We'll wait as long as you need us to."

Grimm felt the knots in his stomach grow even tighter. He prepared himself for the inevitable confrontation.

There was an unnatural silence, even for a remote base on Mars, just after the security door closed behind Swann, Campbell and Dr. Betruger. Everyone in the room could feel the tension. The Lieutenant's men had never seen him like this before.

Slowly, like a predator who knows he has securely cornered his prey, Lt. Palani turned towards Grimm.

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, "Hello Corporal Grimm." He paused for a brief second, while he took two steps to the side – to put himself between Grimm and the only direct way out of the area. "Oh wait, it's _Private_ Grimm now isn't it?"

While John Grimm may have found himself briefly off balance, he had not survived for so many years and so many missions just simply because he could pull a trigger quickly. A man also had to know how to read a situation and his enemy. Then take what he knew about that enemy and anticipate his actions. Sarge, or, rather, Lt. Palani now, wouldn't want to just kill him, not so much because of the witnesses who stood around them, but because he did not have a reason that he could use to justify his actions under the military code. No, this man would first toy with him, attempt to anger him, get him to make the first move. Then whatever happened he could explain away. Only if he were unable to provoke Grimm into taking the "first swing" would he try something else. If Grimm could just hold out long enough the newly promoted lieutenant would be forced to leave when Swann did. It was **not** Grimm's preferred method for handling the situation. It felt too much like hiding. But he knew that, under the circumstances, he was at a very serious disadvantage. He had to be careful. Other than Sam and maybe a few guys here at the base, no one would miss him or even care were anything to happen.

"Congratulations on your promotion, sir," Grimm ignored the dig at his demoted rank. He may have let the lieutenant get to him for an unfortunate moment, but that moment had passed and now he could feel the confidence and composure that years of hard training and even tougher assignments had developed within him. And damn it felt good. A rush that had an almost sexual edge to it coursed through him. After two long years, Reaper was back.

The lieutenant's eyes narrowed, sensing a change in the man standing in front of him, but not entirely sure what the change was. "That's what happens when a soldier follows orders _private_. When he follows them without fail, without thought and without question. A _soldier_ can expect to be rewarded for his loyalty and sacrifice. But those men who would choose to defy orders, who openly engage in mutinous actions and even attempt such a cowardly act as to murder their superior officer to cover up their cowardice, should be shown no mercy. Such a man does not deserve to call himself a soldier. He is a mockery of all the things the Corps stands for. That he should still be allowed to wear the uniform of a Marine is an obscene insult. One that will not be tolerated for long."

Ryan Walsh and all of the Lieutenant's men held their collective breaths. Not one of them knew any of the history between these two men, but the charges that the lieutenant was indirectly throwing at Grimm were stunning. The men stood in complete silence, mouths agape, unable or unwilling to move. Each man sensing that the dynamics between these two men were as volatile as a grenade with the button half way pressed. Just one wrong move and a bad situation could become deadly.

However, Grimm was not so easily unnerved. He had held overloaded plasma rifles long beyond the moment when any sane man would drop it and run. He had stood fast against enemies that out-numbered, out-gunned and out-positioned him without flinching. He had even looked into the eyes of man as he had quite literally transformed into a demon. A few words, though they might sting a bit at his pride, would barely even touch the surface of his cool demeanor.

"And what about a soldier, a commanding officer let's say, who allows his emotions and ambition to blind him to the moral obligations that he holds to not only to the Corps, but the innocent civilians entrusted to his care?" Grimm tossed back casually, as if they were merely buddies throwing back a beer together, debating hypothetical situations. "And what if this same commanding officer took it upon himself to be judge, jury and executioner of one of his own men? A young man whose offense was only that he had the audacity to stand up for what was right in the face of a CO who was clearly losing his perspective of the situation at hand."

"Moral obligations?" Lt. Palani repeated, as if he had never heard the term before. "The only moral obligation a solider has, _private_, is to follow orders he is given, to the letter. And any solider who defies those orders and shows complete and utter contempt for his commanding officer will face charges for mutiny."

"And when he faces those charges, it will be in a military courtroom of course. Correct _lieutenant_?" Grimm asked with only the slightest edge to his voice.

Lt. Palani gritted his teeth, this wasn't going exactly as he had imagined it. He had thought the two years that John Grimm had spent in this place would have worn him down a bit. While he admired the man's resilience, he also hated him for it. He had expected, even perhaps hoped, to find a man who was a mere shell of his former self. He had wanted to find a man for whom there was no hope left. He did not want to find a completely broken man. For where would the sport be in that? But the man, no, the soldier, standing in front of him was almost the same exact John Grimm with whom he had gone to Olduvia. In fact the son of a bitch looked even harder and leaner than before.

He began to pace the room, " Of course the military courtroom is where most soldiers will, and should be, tried. According to the Corps code of justice. However," the lieutenant paused briefly to stop and drill Grimm with a glare, "in times of war, this may not always be possible. In the field, under certain circumstances, it may be necessary to try a soldier on charges immediately, particularly those of such a offensive nature as mutiny."

"But should the soldier be judged by the same man making the charges?" Grimm challenged. He knew he was pushing his luck questioning an officer who outranked him so greatly, but it felt good to finally get to ask the questions he had for so long wanted answers to.

The lieutenant, who had stopped pacing to listen to him, started again. How the hell had he been put on the defensive like this? HE was the one who had come home in pieces! This bastard had come home with barely a scratch! "A commanding officer's primary responsibility is to ensure the successful completion of a mission. Anyone who stands in the way of this can, and should be, considered a threat and dealt with as such."

"I agree, a commanding officer's primary responsibility is to ensure the successful completion of a mission," Grimm nodded, knowing that he was walking out onto thin ice with this one, for more reasons than one. "But what about his responsibility to his men? What about not only his responsibility to ensure their safety and survival, but his responsibility to interpret their orders in such a way that he is not compromising their honor and integrity? Is there not a point at which this becomes an even greater concern?"

"Why don't you answer that one Reaper!" Lt. Palani turned on him, advanced towards him, "I entrusted you to lead one mission, just one lousy mission, and you come back with your tail between your legs, one of your men in a body bag and you in need of memory therapy! **You** took the wrong weapons, **you** allowed your men to be used a guinea pigs to test those new rifles and **you** made a seriously bad call in the field. You mis-read the situation and one of your men got his head literally blown off. Where was your concern then?"

This was what he had expected would be thrown back in his face. He had made a mistake not fighting the decision to make his team take experimental weapons into the field, into an environment they had never been tested in and, yes, he had mis-read the situation and a man who had been a friend was dead because of it. But he had done the best he could. Made the best decisions he could with the information he had. This was not a ghost that would haunt him any longer.

"You're right lieutenant," He met those eyes, that were so foreign and strange to him, without blinking, "I made a mistake. Just one. I should not have agreed to take those rifles into that jungle. But the call I made, once in the field, was based on the information I had. And yes, it turned out that the guerillas had no problem sacrificing a fifteen year old boy to get the jump on us, but I got all of my other men home. I take full responsibility for my decisions and actions. We completed our mission. Not one of my orders was questioned and not one innocent person was killed. Can you say the same?"

There was an audible gasp from one of the men in the room, but neither Lt. Palani nor Private Grimm heard it. As far as they were aware, they were alone in that room, everyone and everything else having faded into near nothingness.

Lt. Palani stepped forward, once again, towards Grimm. His finger unconsciously slipping onto the trigger of his weapon. No-one had ever dared to challenge him like this before. Most men were too smart or too scared to do so. And no-one would ever do it again.

"Hey grimy Grimm!" A voice called out as the doors from warehouse opened.

The man was greeted with raised weapons as the lieutenant's men were startled by the unexpected intrusion.

Buddy Sopper, a short, stocky, older Marine stood frozen to his spot. It could only have been fate that saved him from a heart-attack.

"Who are you?" Demanded one of the lieutenant's men.

"Uh," Buddy had to swallow several times before he could get any spit back into his mouth. "I, uh, I'm here for the shift change."

"Shouldn't there be two of you?" The same man shot back.

"Yea," Buddy replied faintly, his eyes still unable to look beyond the weapons that were trained on him. "Wilson will be along any sec. He had to take a leak."

There was a moment of silence and nobody moved. Nerves were still stretched tight and the two men at the heart of the situation were still faced off, neither wanting to be the first to look away.

"Uh, guys," Buddy was starting to see spots in front of his eyes, "Could you maybe lower your weapons? I can show you my id if you need it."

"You will regret that comment." Lt Palani spoke so that only Grimm could hear him. "You will regret a lot of things."

He then turned away, "Put your weapons down men. Private Grimm's security detail is now over. We wouldn't want to keep him from his paperwork now would we?"

Under ordinary circumstances his men would have laughed, but at the moment, none of them even felt like cracking a smile.

Silently Grimm left. Not bothering with the standard turnover routine, but if anyone noticed they weren't about to say anything.

As Grimm made his way back to his quarters, with Ryan trailing behind him, still reeling from what he had witnessed, he felt strangely good about what had just happened. Sure he would undoubtedly be reprimanded, possibly even docked some pay or leave time, and maybe even put on the graveyard shift again, but it had been worth it. For the first time in two years John "Reaper" Grimm felt alive again.


	7. Chapter 7 The Beginning of the End

**_Note to my readers - please do not panic – Dee is NOT going to turn into a Mary Sue. If you haven't figured it out by now, Reaper is the hero of this story._**

Dee was, yet again, not a happy woman. First, her well ordered life was being screwed around with by some corporate hired gun which meant she had to ride her normally efficient, though personality challenged crew, to do things "by the book" until said corporate shmuck was gone. Second, she had been forced to pacify an agitated Dr. Kalif after he was informed that his drill was not going to be ready for operation by oh nine hundred hours. After which she had had to scramble to find parts to fix one of the cooling monitors after Malcolm, the latest tech pawned off on her by the powers that be, thinking he was some kind of new, undiscovered genius, had bypassed the current interrupter and wired the capacitor straight to the terminal, ultimately resulting in a blowout when the pressure in the lines had exceeded the safe limits and the interrupter had not kicked in. Which was the fancy way of saying there was a shit-load of coolant all over the HVAC room and the guys in the power plant were seriously pissed off because they had no air-conditioning at the moment. However, the final straw had been when she had received the call from Dr. Rosenblatt, one of Dr. Betruger's top men, demanding that she bring her team, with a remote sentry to the Alpha-Omega lab IMMEADIATELY. As if she didn't have anything else to do, but wait around for his call. On top of which she had still not had a chance to secure her latest shipment of goods.

She stalked down the hallway followed by two of her top techs – Helldiver and Ironworks. They were both horribly amused by her current mood. They knew she found the research staff to be nothing by a serious annoyance and she really hated to have her tightly scheduled routine disrupted.

"So did Dr. Rosie say what was so urgent?" Helldiver asked.

"Of course not," Dee spat, "White coats never have to explain themselves to _the help_."

"Probably has something to do with that new toy Dr. B found hun?" Ironworks speculated.

Dee glared at him over her shoulder, "Dr. B does NOT have a new toy remember?"

Ironworks just shrugged. They had all been told to keep their mouths shut about everything that went on in the labs. Especially during the corporate suit's visit. "Sorry, I meant, it must have something to do with nothing."

Without pause Dee stormed into the Omega labs security center only to find herself confronted by a line of Marines. But not base Marines. No, these guys were all dressed in black and looked completely out of place. Nobody had uniforms that crisp and clean after a few weeks at Enyo.

"Who the hell are you?" Demanded the biggest Marine in the group. Hell, he might be one of the biggest Marines Dee had ever seen. His face was a mess of scars, but it was more than that which commanded her attention. There was something about him that told her this man was always in charge of any situation he entered and that he would accept nothing less than total submission by both his enemies and subordinates.

Unfortunately for him Dee was not one of his subordinates, "DeeDee Dawn. I'm a Senior Operations Manager. I'm here on orders from Dr. Roseblatt. Now, who the hell are you?"

The Marine was clearly taken aback by her demeanor. She sensed he was not used to being challenged, especially not by a civilian. Tough. This was HER turf, not his.

"Lieutenant Palani, RRTS Special Operations." He shot back at her, straightening out to his full height as he approached her. "My orders are to ensure the safety of Counselor Swann and to enforce any and all directives issued by the UAC Board of Directors. I need to see your badges now!"

Dee could not believe his nerve. Who the hell did he think he was? He wasn't in charge of base security. She glanced over at Buddy and Wilson. They both seemed to be cowering in fear behind the security desk. Clearly they were not going to argue the issue.

Disgusted she looked back at the man now towering over her, holding his hand out.

"Since when has RRTS taken over security guard duty?" She sneered, hoping to hit a nerve. She made no move to get her badge.

To his credit he barely flinched, but his eyes blazed with the fury of a volcano. He took another step forward so that he stood a hand's width from her, forcing her to tilt her head far back to maintain eye contact with him.

"You **will** give me your badge or I will have you escorted to a holding cell where you can explain your insubordination to your superior." He stated with a soft growl.

Dee clenched her teeth together. Her superior would not be pleased to get a call about her being in a holding cell. Especially not after he warned her to make sure everyone was on their best behavior during the counselor's visit.

She wanted to find a reason not to give this bully her badge, but short of making a big scene there really was no way around it. Harshly she slapped her badge into his waiting hand.

Immediately he relaxed. She could tell he was pleased to be back in charge of the situation. In fact, she had the feeling he was on the verge of smiling.

"Thank you…"He looked down at her badge, "Sr. Operations Manager Dawn. Your cooperation is appreciated."

Dee simply glared at him as he collected her men's badges as well. He walked over to the security desk where Buddy and Wilson could not get out of his way fast enough. He scanned their badges into the system and then he glanced over at Buddy.

"Please inform Dr. Rosenblatt that Sr. Operations Manager Dawn has arrived and will be joining him shortly." He then moved around the desk and re-approached her. He held out her badge to her. "I apologize for any inconvenience that I may have caused you, but I take my orders very seriously. I cannot and will not allow any harm to come to the counselor."

Dee's eyes narrowed slightly. All the anger was gone from his eyes and his voice no longer held any tone of contempt or condescension. She nodded once, to acknowledge she had heard him. Although she could respect his dedication to his job she was still burning about his threat to have her locked up.

"About damn time!" She heard Dr. Rosenblatt's voice over the intercom. "Send her down immediately and tell her to stop dawdling."

Dee looked at the lieutenant, waiting for him to step out of her way. After a brief moment he did so.

Without another word she and her men entered the Omega labs section.

"What a arrogant bastard!" Ironworks blurted out the moment the door closed behind them.

"Someone ought to give him a tour of the waste treatment facility,' Helldiver snarled, "Let him get up close and personal with the plasma processor."

Dee almost smiled. Her guys might be seriously rough around the edges, but they looked out for her. "Maybe we can invite him to do just that. You know, like make a _peace_ offering."

The guys laughed, hearing the sarcasm in her voice.

"Absolutely," Ironworks drawled, "Just to show him there's no hard feelings or anything."

"Bet a lug-head like him would eat that kind of shit up." Helldiver shook his head in disgust. "A man like that thinks the whole world should be bowing down at his feet."

"Well what took you so long?" Demanded Dr. Rosenblatt as they entered the main lab. "I called nearly twenty minutes ago!"

Normally Dee would have been quick with a reply, but at that moment she could barely think, much less formulate a response.

It was true. They had found new alien technology. Not only that, but all the rumors about Dr. Betruger trying to secretly harness the technology were apparently also true. Before them was what could only be described as a wall of energy. Blazing bright like some kind of miniature sun. A furnace without the heat.

"Well, we haven't got all day," She heard Dr. Rosenblatt's annoyed voice speaking to her from what seemed like a long distance away, though he only stood feet from her, "Get the sentry ready. I want to know what is on the other side of that gateway."

Dee looked at the doctor and wondered what kind of madness lurked about in his mind. He looked like a child just before opening a present.

If Dee could have started her day over she would have called in sick.


	8. Chapter 8: Remote Sentry

**Note: I know I have been away for a while, but I should be updating more regularly going forward. **

**Dark Shadow, Mokona &MixedUpAgain, I hope that the wait will have been worth it. Thanks for the "kick in the pants" to get me going again. :)**

**Also I do not have a physics degree so if I am really off on anything I would greatly appreciate feedback. Heck, feedback of any kind would be greatly appreciated!**

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Unable to find her voice Dee turned to Ironworks and silently nodded to him to start setting up the remote sentry. This was not a situation she had ever found herself in before. Nothing in all of her experience had prepared her for a moment like this. She knew whatever was going on here was completely unauthorized by UAC and her innate animal instincts told her to run away as far as she could, but she also knew there was absolutely no-where to run to. There was no way out. So she suppressed the fear and focused on the job.

Quickly and efficiently she and her men set up the remote sentry. She could see the doubt and worry in their eyes so she masked hers. They were looking to her to see how they should be handling this situation and she knew that any weakness in her would be multiplied in them. So she pretended that this was just another job for the white coats; nothing to get excited about. Within minutes both Ironworks and Helldiver were behaving just as she was. Methodically setting everything up, testing the monitors, receivers, data recorders and the power system.

"Is it ready yet?" Dr. Rosenblatt stalked over and demanded impatiently.

"Yes sir," Dee answered, staring at the monitors that Helldiver had hooked the remote sentry into. She did not want to see the deranged look in his eyes. She needed to stay focused.

"Then move it into position." Dr. Rosenblatt ordered as he walked towards the reinforced plexiglass shield. "I want all scanners on full."

"All scanners on full," She repeated as she glanced over at Ironworks. She remembered the first day she had met him. He was one of the biggest men she had ever met. His skin almost black as midnight, but his eyes golden like a wild cat's. And his reputation was even darker than his skin. Yet she had trusted him from the first. Understanding that he was a man whose loyalty could never be bought with money, but only with equal loyalty. She had given that to him. Now she wished she had a moment to tell him how much his unique friendship had meant to her over the past few years. Before it was too late.

"Proceed." The doctor's voice broke into her thoughts, bringing her back to the present. "But I only want an initial reading. Tell me what it is made of on the surface. Do not probe beyond 24 millimeters."

Dee looked over at Helldiver who stood before the remote controls of the sentry. "Whenever you are ready."

Though he was tattooed from his bald head to scarred and missing toes Helldiver was one of the most brilliant mechanical engineers that Dee had ever worked with. He was able to see problems even before anyone else knew they existed and she knew he could maneuver the remote sentry to probe no more than 24 millimeters without even using the diagnostic readers.

Dee turned her attention back to her monitors. It was just as she expected. Nothing made sense. The readings were wild, fluctuating and off any known chart. Even the laws of physics did not seem to apply to it. In particular she seemed to be witnessing the destruction of Newton's Second Law of Physics. The one that stated that bodies (or particles) at rest (or in a balanced state of energy) stay at rest unless acted on by an outside force, yet, she was showing readings of particles that appeared to be at rest on moment, yet in motion the next, without any change in energy output or loss of matter. She tried to reassure herself that this could not possibly be happening, it was simply a matter of her own ignorance. There was an explanation, she just wasn't educated enough to know what it was.

But her animal side, that instinctual part of human nature, that even evolution itself could not wipe out, knew the truth. Whatever this thing was, it was beyond human knowledge and control. It was only a matter of time before things went really, really wrong.

"That's enough!" Dr. Rosenblatt suddenly shouted over his shoulder.

Immediately, Helldiver backed the sentry away from the ---- phenomenon.

"That will be all Senior Operations Manager Dawn." The doctor stated unexpectedly, but then continued, "My lab personnel will take over from here."

Startled, Dee looked over at the doctor. His back was to her, his hands clasped behind his back while he looked like some kind of triumphant general looking over a battlefield.

"You and your men may go now." He spoke in an almost pleasant tone of voice, but he did not look at her.

Dee motioned for Helldiver to let one of the lab techs take the remote controls, and then she looked at Ironworks and tilted her head towards the door. Silently they left.

Dee glanced over her shoulder for one last look at the object, its large, bright golden core surrounded by a warm orange layer both of which reminded her of tropical days and captivating sunsets. The next layer was much thinner, it oozed more than radiated color, a color as deep and as thick as blood.


	9. Chapter 9: Something Goes Wrong

Grimm listened to the sound of the elevator as he rode it down 4 levels to the Marine's barracks. The adrenaline high that he had been riding had worn off as he had checked his weapon in at the Command Center. Unlike in the RRTS or even any other standard Marine base, the soldiers at Enyo were not allowed to have personal weapons or even a weapon specifically assigned to him. That meant taking whatever they gave you when you logged in for your shift. Thus, Grimm always made a point to log in early so that he could ensure his weapon was in working order before heading to his post. Many of the other Marines and security personnel mocked him. No-one had had cause to discharge a weapon in the line of duty for over 6 years. Though a few had been discharged for other purposes. These events were only noted as "accidental discharges" on the man's death certificate.

John was not a man typically given to spending much time on introspection, but he knew he had to be careful in the coming days. Sarge (as Grimm could not bring himself to refer to him with his new rank) did not make idle threats. The man meant to do him harm. Serious, possibly life-threatening, harm. He was going to have to do the one thing he had sworn never to do here. Ask for help.

As he stepped from the elevator he decided that during their next shift together, right after their four hour break, he would ask Walshy to set him up with some way of keeping an eye on Sarge. Make sure he knew where the man was so that he would not be caught unaware in a wrong place at the wrong time.

Grimm walked down the dimly lit hall. The UAC saw no reason to light the living quarters, particularly the hallways, barely above a flashlight level. It had been real tough, at first, to get used to. There were a lot of shadowy passages with corners so dark they were invisible. A lot of places for an enemy to hide. No-one made a game of it though. Taking a bone breaking hit, winding up in the infirmary for a few weeks or even worse tended to put people off from such foolish action. Though, he had heard the lab techs still had real fun with it. Of course they weren't trained to break necks, arms, legs or gouge an enemies eyes out to survive.

He punched the in the passcode to enter the living quarters he shared with Frank Walters. They barely saw each other as Walters actually volunteered to work the graveyard shift. As he saw it, there was no reason to go by the Mars daylight clock since they rarely saw daylight. He preferred to work when most of the lab workers were asleep. He did not like interacting with other people and avoided it as much as possible. In a strange way he reminded John of one of his former teammates, Goat. Only Frank had dark hair and pale, icy blue eyes.

But he didn't want to think of Goat now, or any of the other men from that ill-fated squad.

Grimm quickly washed up and then fell into his bunk. He had less than three hours to rest before he needed to get up and report in for his next assignment. Usually he would go to the gym and exercise between his two daily assignments, but today he needed the rest. His body was in excellent shape, he needed his mind to be just as sharp now.

Less than an hour later the alarms went off. Jumping up he ran to the monitor in the room. It was the master alarms. They were only triggered by a very few events, an outer wall had been compromised and the life support systems were in danger, the energy core was overloaded, a major security breach had occurred or, worst of all, there was release of a biohazard in the labs that had not been successfully contained by the immediate emergency lockdown process.

The computer did not specify the event, but ordered all Marines and security personnel, who were not on duty, to report in. Grimm threw his uniform on and grabbed a small pack with emergency gear and rations that he had put together for himself. It was not much, but it was better than the nothing that UAC had issued him.

He, along with the rest of the Marines in the barracks, raced up to the Command Center. No-one knew what was going on, but then again, he would have been shocked if anyone had known what was going on. UAC did not share its secrets, especially not the dirty ones.

He stood in line to receive his orders along with gear. He was not particularly surprised, though he was deeply disgusted, when he was ordered to the pumping station and issued nothing more than a flashlight and a transponder. Clearly word had already made it back about his confrontation with Sarge.

As he walked away Ryan bumped into him and slipped him a small PDA. Grimm didn't have to ask if it was standard issue. No doubt Walshy had made some modifications to it. Once he had some privacy he would take a look at it. Hopefully it had some information on it about what was going on. A gut feeling told him something very bad had happened and it was only about to get worse.


	10. Chapter 10: Lockdown

The quiet was worse than the almost deafening noise the master alarms had made. Standing alone in the pumping station Reaper could almost imagine he was alone in the station. There was no movement of any kind. The monitoring station was unmanned and though the machines continued to work, maintaining both water and air pressure, there was a strange stillness to the air. In here the walls were neither the dark grey of most of the hallways nor the artificial bright white of the security stations and offices. Here the walls and atmosphere took on a strange dusty bronze-like feel. Only the occasional blinking of the computer monitors reminded him that he was not in a frozen dream state.

It seemed like endless hours before he finally saw Ryan's first text messages:

Biohazard in Alphaomega labs 

_Fatalities confirmed_

_Number unknown_

_Total lockdown requested_

Reaper's breath caught in his throat. Biohazard.

Everyone's worst nightmare.

Dr. Betruger had finally gone too far.

Reaper instantly contracted into a crouch as the alarms went off again. Without thought he re-clipped the modified PDA to his belt and brought his flashlight up, the long barrel resting on his shoulder as the light shined forward. In this position he could use it to bash a man's head in if he needed to.

Very slowly he stood up again.

He waited.

He listened.

Watching….

Total lockdown had been initiated. Every level was cut off from the ones above and beneath it. Every major segment of Enyo had had its blast doors closed. The final, eerie, moment was when the large machinery lapsed into passivity. Awaiting new orders.


	11. Chapter 11: Moving out

Slowly Reaper moved forward. Toe to heal. Balance was all important.

Keeping his eyes forward, he used his peripheral vision to watch for any movement. Cautiously he made his way up the metal staircase to the upper platform where the monitoring systems were.

The soft humming of the machinery vaguely reminded him of crickets on a hot summer's eve back on the ranch his uncle owned.

Reaper approached the command center's computer. As he did so he could see one monitor was focused on the blast door that sealed the pumping station from the toxic waste holding and disposal facility. He froze.

That moment would take on a surreal quality that John Grimm would never be able to completely bury in his memories for the rest of his life.

Technicians. Men and women in white lab coats pounding, beating, all but throwing themselves, against the impenetrable wall that stood between them and what they thought was safety.

Two steps forward and he watched as their panic became hysteria. They began to turn on one another. Pushing each other towards whatever it was that approached them.

Then he took another step towards the monitors. Even without sound he knew their screams were deafening. The threat, whatever it was, could not be a virus or any other airborne illness. Whatever this biohazard was it had form and shape that people could see. He watched, feeling both impatient to see what it was that terrified these people so, and also agonizingly frustrated that there was nothing he could do to help them. He knew, through knowledge gained by years of bloody combat and being a first-hand witness to biowarfare, these people were about to die. They were going to be slaughtered like the helpless animals they now were.

Reaper gritted his teeth and forced his any sympathy or pity he might feel for these poor souls away into the most hidden regions of his own mind. He could not help these people, but the knowledge he gained from watching whatever enemy it was that advanced on them could be vital to the survival of others, not to mention, himself.

Suddenly there was a blinding flash from the monitor. Instinctively he moved back into a defensive stance, but his eyes stayed on the monitor. Some of the people were down. His mind fought to make sense of what he was seeing. Blinding flashes of light kept coming. People kept falling, some slammed against the wall by the light, some had body parts torn off and even others seemed to be burning. What kind of weapon was this? If he didn't know better he would have described the lights as a fireball. But that made no sense. Yet there didn't seem a better description of the lights. What little he could see of the projectiles was a yellow-orange ball of some fiery substance. The surface seemed to burn, so it was not an entirely solid, yet once the projectile hit something it disintegrated as if it was some form of liquid. What kind of weapon fired ammunition that was both liquid in nature, yet held a solid form?

"Damnit!" He shouted in frustration, swinging the flashlight down to his side, as he realized that all the people were dead, yet he had not caught even the smallest glimpse of the enemy. Whomever, or whatever, had fired the fireballs had done so from a distance and clearly did not feel the need to check to make sure all of it's victims were actually dead.

Reaper looked around. There was no way in hell he was staying put in the pumping station while the battle raged elsewhere. He had no weapon, but that was a minor point he would deal with later.

First he had to get out of the sector he was in. He grabbed the PDA and realized Ryan had sent another message:

_Unknown organisms detected in AO labs_

_Origin unknown_

_Number unknown_

_Objective unknown_

_Known: hostile/extreme threat_

_SFLQTI_

"Shoot first, leave questions to investigators," Reaper softly translated the acronym at the bottom of the message. It's meaning was clear. UAC was not in control of the situation. Lethal force had been approved for use by the guards who had been sent in, but Ryan either knew or didn't think the men sent in would be enough. As bad as things were, they were going to get a lot worse before they got better.

Quickly he typed in a quick message of his own to Ryan:

_Trapped in pumping station_

_Need exit_

Need route 

_Need weapon_

He waited impatiently for a reply. He wanted out. He wanted to know where the fight was. Even if Ryan couldn't direct him to a weapon he was pumped enough to use just the flashlight and his fists if he had to. He just wanted to find the enemy and destroy it.

Reaper listened to the strange quiet that had fallen over the room. It should have been loud with the sound of machinery. The computers should have been actively monitoring them. There should have been movement of the occasional technician or laborer. But now there was nothing. Almost as if the base had been abandoned and he was all alone.

Finally the reply came back:

_Go to north door_

Will open 

_Get to AO _

_Many casualties_

_Evacuation begun_

_Possible weapon in process control_

_Check lockers_

Reaper moved quickly to the north door. While the standard Earth polar directions meant little on Mars, the doors had been labeled this way anyway.

He positioned himself to the right side of the door. There was no telling what, if anything, would be on the other side, but he wasn't about to start off by making a target of himself.

Seconds later the door opened. He held his breath. They sounded ridiculously loud at the moment. If there was anything nearby it had certainly heard them. He waited patiently for a moment, using both his ears and nose to try to detect anything. He heard the soft hissing of the pipes used to move the heating fluid through the base as water that condensed on the cold pipes fell on it. There was no smell of coolant or solvents or any other toxic substances he was familiar with. Crouching down just slightly he pressed his back to the wall and slowly turned his head to peer out into the hallway. He knew he was four levels down and nearly one klick from the entrance to the Alpha-Omega labs so he was a good distance away from the origin of the threat, but to assume that he was therefore safe was as good as inviting death over for coffee.

He saw no unusual movement. Nothing caught his eye, so he quickly moved to the other side of the doorway to check for anything that might be hiding in the corner behind his previous position. Again he saw nothing.

Quickly he typed in a message to Ryan:

_Entering HVAC area_

_Need enemy data asap_

_Number/position_

_ID loc BU_

_Moving out_

Reaper knew that going into a hostile situation went against every piece of training he had had drilled into him, but until Ryan could tell him where they other guys were to get himself some backup he had no choice.

Silently he stepped into the HVAC station. He needed to get to the AO labs as quickly and safely as possible, but on his way he was going to do his damnedest to find a real weapon. If he remembered correctly the HVAC area was connected to the Facilities Maintenance warehouse. He should be able to find something there. Hell, even a handheld blowtorch would be preferable to the flashlight.

Once he reached the doorway to the facilities warehouse he quickly glanced down at the PDA. The message he saw there made his blood run cold.

_UAC orders safe retrieval of Swann _

_AT ALL COSTS_

_All guards ordered to AO lab entry ASAP_

_Idiots lifting full lockdown_

_Lt Palani in charge of base until Swann secured_


	12. Chapter 12: Inside the Labs

Dee Dee had always thought of herself as being a tough survivor. Now she knew she had only been kidding herself. She was nothing more than a glorified maintenance worker. Nothing special, and certainly not so tough.

Perhaps a moronic, egotistical, arrogant idiot was a better description. Who did she think she was? Superman? A soft, hysterical giggle escaped her lips before she could seal them. Had she really thought she would be able to just sneak back into the Alpha-Omega labs, grab her friend Trish and get the hell out?

What an insane fool she had been.

Rolling her head from side to side against the cold metal of the walls she knew was going to die. She knew the truth. She had seen it.

A biohazard? Is that what they were calling it? A biohazard was supposed to be a microorganism. A bacteria or a virus. Certainly not a monster of mythic proportions. A mutant dragon that could rip open walls; a deviant lizard that could walk like a man or crawl across the ceiling; a freakish monstrosity, as tall as two men, but with claws for fingers and as many eyes as a spider. Those were things of nightmares. Things like that should not exist.

But they did.

Dee gritted her teeth and fought back the hysteria that threatened to take over her mind and body. She rocked back and forth as she physically fought to maintain control of herself. A part of her wanted nothing more than to find some small, tight, dark corner to curl up in and wait for it all to be over. Surely security and those newly arrived Marines would be coming soon. They would charge in, kill the monsters and she would be safe again. She wanted to believe that. Desperately.

She sobbed quietly as the scream of another human victim forced her to face that lie for what it was. No-one was coming. There would be no rescue.

Dee stared upwards at nothing. Then she closed her eyes. She fought back the panic that gripped her. Her grandfather had taught her that to survive you had to think. You had to be as calm as possible. It did not mean she could not feel fear, it just meant she could not allow it to overrule her rational mind and the gut instinct that guided it. Quietly she breathed in through her nose, then softly breathed out through her mouth. She must not think about what she had seen. The blood, the gore, the monsters, the demons. She must push it away. Lock it into her memories. She would have to deal with it later.

She must focus now. Focus on surviving. On finding her best friend. On getting them both out alive. No rescue was coming. She could count on no-one else to come to her aid. To survive meant she had to be smart, silent and cunning. These monsters were not going to get her without a mean fight. If it was her time to go she was taking some of them with her.

Silently Dee took a deep breath and then very cautiously she peered around the local generator she had hidden behind. Each sector had its own generator and every lab that contained unstable alien artifacts had a secondary generator installed. She had hidden in one of those labs. As a Senior Operations Manager she had been entrusted with a master set of keys that would open almost any doors, except those to the most top secret areas. For those sectors only a color coded pass key would open the doors.

Through the triple sealed Plexiglas window Dee watched for any sign of movement, but, at the moment saw none. Whatever had been out there in the halls had moved on, for now.

Glancing around she took a quick inventory of what was in the room. Much of it was broken or in shambles. Either by the hysteria of the lab workers as they tried to escape or by the beasts themselves as they had pursued their hapless victims. There was broken glass by the bucket loads, notebooks, pencils, pens, pieces of scanners, computers and printers, perhaps a hundred bottles of powdered and liquid chemicals that meant nothing to her, chairs, small instruments and lab tools, but not a damn thing that looked remotely like a decent weapon. The last object her eyes rested upon was one of the largest solid objects in the room, but it had hardly been created as an offensive weapon. Still, it looked like her only option at the moment and at least it required very little skill to use and had some range to it.

Dee glanced again towards the window to assure herself that nothing was there before she began to very slowly and painstakingly make her way through the rubble to the other side of the lab. Once there, making as little noise as possible, she unlatched the fire extinguisher and removed it from the wall.

It wasn't a very big fire extinguisher and on the scale of weaponry it barely rated above a sharp stick, but in some way it made her feel better. At least now she had a little bit more than just harsh language to defend herself with.

Turning around again she made her way back to the doorway. For the moment she did not need her master key. One of the mammoth dragon monsters had ripped this door open. She tried not to think about how much power it would take for anything to rip open a solid steel door like tin foil, or how little something like that would care about her lame wanna-be weapon. She forced herself to focus on watching the hallway for any sign of movement as she reluctantly made her way deeper into the lab complex.

There were only two places anyone could hope to hold out in for an extended period of time. One was the so-called "panic room" that had been built into the Primary Observation Area of the Omega lab and the other was the storage warehouse that had been originally designed to house the first engineers assigned to begin constructing the base. It had been built to withstand all the intense forces of nature and matter that Mars threw at unwanted guests. In one of those places Dee prayed she would find her friend. She couldn't turn back now even if she wanted to. The obsolete air shaft she had used to gain entrance to the labs had been torn apart by an explosion in the one of the many coolant compressors found throughout the base. She knew her best, and only, bet was to make it to one of these safe havens and get herself inside. If they would let her in. If there were any survivors.


End file.
